The Bricks, construct, the place in which I self destruct my eyes, they see, the zombies limp abreast to me structures ascend, channeling wind we beg for change in the valley within
waste away hanging out
coffee acid cigarettes and matches stairway, cafe, were adrift for another day how far we surpass the nameless mass in endeavors so meaningless I look for some kind of meaning all my actions seem so self-defeating
two friends, some pens, sixty five cents real life brings it to an end how far we surpass the mass, in endeavors so meaningless.
thanks to matthew joseph roche
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